


How's your healing?

by Want_to_read234



Series: My First Whumptober (2020) [27]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Kidnapping, Stabbing, Torture, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:15:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27306871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Want_to_read234/pseuds/Want_to_read234
Summary: During a meeting to take down some Hydra wannabees, they manage to kidnap the Avengers. Turns out they want to 'test' Peter and Steves healing abilities.Day 31: Experiment / Whipped
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: My First Whumptober (2020) [27]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948717
Comments: 10
Kudos: 107
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	How's your healing?

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween! (or hi if you read this any other day of the year!) I can't believe this is the end of Whumptober!
> 
> I think this is possibly one of the darker fics I've written, but it does still have a happy ending. 
> 
> I read ages ago but people keeping captives in state of undress to make the captives more vulnerable hence less of a threat. For power imbalance, all that jazz. Anyway, I wanted to try and incorporate that in it. So the Avengers end up being held naked, but there is nothing sexual in this (except one joke made by Tony) and there are no details. Apologies if that makes you uncomfortable. But if it does, might be best to not read.
> 
> So I hope you enjoy!
> 
> TW: nudity (not sexual)

Peter came to slowly. His head felt like it had been stuffed with cotton and he was cold. The concrete floor beneath him was stealing away any heat he had left.

He could hear heartbeats somewhere nearby, but he couldn’t find the energy to open his eyes to locate who they were coming from. His limbs felt heavy and uncooperative when he attempted to curl up to try and fend off the cold.

Taking a couple of deep breaths, he rested his head against the wall behind him. Trying to organise his thoughts.

The last thing he remembered; he had been protecting the teams truck waiting for the others to return.

They had been on a mission to track down some Hydra wannabees who had been experimenting with some alien technology. SHIELD had classed them a big enough threat as to pull in all the available Avengers. Mr Stark had reluctantly agreed for Peter to accompany the team, as long as he stayed by the truck unless explicitly told to move.

He hadn’t wanted to stay behind, but he figured if he wanted to be brought on any more missions, he should prove that he can follow the instructions. So, he had positioned himself by the truck waiting for the others to return.

He kept up with them through the comms. Iron Man and Falcon were on aerial support, while Captain America, Hawkeye and Black Widow infiltrated from the ground. Natasha had just commented on how it was too quiet when all hell broke loose.

Peter couldn’t keep up with the sounds of fighting over the comms, he had itched to swing over and join in, but for once he followed Mr Starks instructions. Waiting to be called in as back up.

“Mr Stark? Do you need a hand?” he prompted when he hadn’t heard the mans quips for a couple minutes.

He paced back and forth beside the truck when he received no response.

“Hello? Anyone there?”

“…”

“…Guys?” his voice trembled.

His spidey-sense screamed at him at the same time that something sharp pricked his arm. Glancing down, he saw a dart sticking out of his arm. Pulling it out, he swayed at the sensation of drugs spreading through his system.

The sound of footsteps behind him had caught his attention, but his vision blacked out before he set eyes on whoever it was approaching. Within seconds of hitting the floor he was out cold.

Focussing back on the present Peters breath hitched. He’d been taken. That much was painfully clear, the question was whether the others had also been kidnapped or if they had managed to escape.

Peeling his eyes open, he glanced down and felt a pit form in his stomach when he realised he was naked. Whoever had taken him had taken his suit. They had seen his face. Shifting to try and cover himself, his attention was drawn to the chains attaching him to the wall. His wrists were chained to the floor, his ankles were chained together, although not attached to anything, and there were more chains wrapped around his shoulders and stomach holding him against the wall behind him.

Tensing his muscles, he tried to break the chains, but they wouldn’t budge. He wished he could say he was surprised. Of course, whoever had them used vibranium chains. Pulling his legs up to give himself at least some sort of modesty, he released a shaky breath.

Turning his gaze to the rest of the room, he aimed to identify the heartbeats he had heard earlier.

Mr Stark was chained to his right. He was in a similar state of undress as himself, but Mr Stark only had chains around his wrists. He appeared to still be out cold. It would make sense that Peter’s metabolism burnt through whatever drugs they had been given quicker than the others. He couldn’t help his eyes flickering to the scars on his mentor’s chest. He had known it was bad and still gave the man pain, but he usually went out of his way to hide it.

Dragging his eyes away, he saw Clint chained on his left in the same way as Mr Stark.

Glancing up he noticed Sam was across from Clint on the other side of the room. Steve was chained directly across from him, held down with the same number of chains as Peter. So whoever had taken them was taking extra precautions with the enhanced members of the team.

Peters cheeks flushed when he noticed Natasha chained beside Steve, across from Mr Stark. Quickly diverting his eyes, he leant forward to rest his forehead on his knees.

He focused on the steady heartbeats of his teammates, trying to distract himself from the building panic attack. That wouldn’t help right now. He had to stay focussed.

Assuming they had all been dosed with the same drugs, he was hoping that Steve would wake up soon. His metabolism wasn’t too far behind Peters own.

It couldn’t have been 5 minutes later when he heard the man in question starting to shift. Hearing a groan, Peter raised his head to meet Steve’s eyes. He could see the mans jaw clenching as he glanced around the room, taking in their situation. If they weren’t in such a serious situation, Peter might have laughed at how quickly Steve’s face turned bright red when he caught sight on Natasha. As it was, Peter just felt the pit grow in his stomach as he realised the soldier wasn’t jumping straight into a plan.

“H-hey Steve,” he croaked.

“Hey Pete, what happened?” the man sounded confused.

Glancing down at the ground between them, Peter shrugged. “I don’t know… was kind of hoping you might know…”

“Hmm… maybe one of the others will remember more,” Steve hesitated. “Don’t worry Pete, everything will be fine.”

Peter glanced up to see Steve shooting him a shaky smile. He could tell that the man didn’t believe that. Peter also knew that anyone who was able to get the drop on all 6 of them, would likely know how to keep them contained. Evidence enough by the vibranium chains. But that sort of thinking wasn’t going to fix anything.

Sighing, Peter gave a tense nod before leaning his head back to close his eyes again.

They slipped into an uncomfortable silence. Both lost in their own thoughts. Too tense to talk. And not wanting to fill the silence with the helplessness of the situation.

The others all started to wake up around the same time. Shuffling and groaning could be heard around the room, as Peter continued to stare at the ground in the centre.

“What happened?” Sam grumbled from where he was slumped over.

“Ugh, well I was expecting something a little kinkier when I wake up naked and restrained…” Mr Stark quipped from beside him, causing Peter’s cheeks to heat up. Out the corner of his eye, Peter could see the man pulling his legs up in a similar position to Peters own. Although Peter was guessing it was more about covering his chest, that protecting his modesty.

Natasha groaned from her position against the wall, “I could have done without that visual Tony.”

“Yeah Stark, keep your bedroom antics between you and Pepper, thanks.” Clint huffed, pulling against his restraints.

As the others scanned the room, Peter felt his mentors gaze freeze on him. Slowly moving his own gaze from the floor to the mans eyes, he felt himself shrinking under the intense glare.

“Kid, what are you doing here?”

“W-what?” he asked confused.

“I told you stay by the truck,” his mentor hissed.

Feeling himself getting angry at the accusation that he was here because he disobeyed, he clenched his fists before responding, “I did stay by the truck!” he hissed, “I stood by the truck, even when you all stopped responding through the comms. I was standing by the truck when I tried contacting you all. And I was standing beside the truck when someone drugged me and then I woke up here with all of you.” He was breathing heavily by the end of his speech.

He watched as Mr Stark deflated, thumping his head against the wall. “Dammit. Sorry kid, I didn’t mean it was your fault. Christ, I didn’t mean that. Are you – are you ok? Well obviously not, since you are here, but are you injured?”

Releasing a shaky breath, Peter shook his head, “I’m not hurt. I’m just…..” he trailed off, he couldn’t tell the _Avengers_ that he was scared. Shaking himself he repeated more confidently, “I’m not hurt.”

Seeming to understand what he had left unsaid, his mentor gave a small nod. “We’ll work this out kid,” turning to address the rest of the room Peter saw the mans mask of indifference slip onto his face, “any ideas on what’s going on?”

Clint shifted, stretching out where he was sat. “Well they obviously want us to feel vulnerable hence our current outfits, or lack thereof. It’s a traditional method, come across it a number of times back when I was… erm…”

Natasha nodded, choosing to ignore the second part of Clints comment, “Exactly, they want us vulnerable, which means they are smart enough to know that we will fight, so they want to have as much of an advantage as possible.”

“But what do they want?” Sam probed.

“Secrets, revenge, money, playthings. The list goes on,” Mr Stark drawled.

“Tony,” Steve chastised, “That’s not helping.”

“Oh I’m sorry spangles, what would you rather me say? That it’s all sunshine and rainbows? They probably just want some autographs then they will be sending us on our way home?”

Squeezing his eyes shut, Peter pressed his forehead into his knees again. He couldn’t afford to freak out in front of the Avengers. He was Spider-Man. He could deal with whatever this was.

His breath started coming in quick pants.

The others continued arguing about the best next steps, but the voices were all overlapping. It wasn’t helping him to calm down. He focused on controlling his breathing, since it was the only thing he could do at the moment. The others continued to argue at an ever-increasing volume, till they were shouting across the room at each other.

After a minute or so, his spidey-sense started to tingle. His eyes darted to the door on the wall between Mr Stark and Natasha. There were footsteps approaching from outside.

“Guys,” he yelled. The others all cut off instantly, turning to face him. Their attention was causing him to squirm, but he stared at the door and whispered, “Someone’s coming.”

The sound of voices drifted through the door, a moment before it swung open. In walked a man dressed in an immaculate suit and a doctors lab coat. He strode into the room with confidence. Stopping in the middle to address them all.

“I’m glad you are all finally up,” the man spoke, while looking intently at a clipboard in his hand.

“What do you want?” Mr Stark sniped at the man.

The smile that slid onto the mans face made Peter shiver. Nothing good ever followed that sort of look.

“Oh, there are plenty of things I want. But I think the more important question, is what you can all do for me.”

“Fine, what can we do for you?” Natasha questioned.

“Nothing from you Ms Romanov,” he smirked. “I am interested in Mr Rogers and Mr Parker here.”

Peter swallowed around his dry throat, eyes avoiding the man in the centre of the room.

“What do you want with the them?” snapped Clint.

“Ah, now you are asking the right questions,” the man nodded.

Mr Stark was moving restlessly beside him, “Just tell us what it is you want, Doctor Who.”

The man chuckled turning to face Mr Stark, “How rude of me Mr Stark, I am Doctor Smith. I’ve been studying enhanced beings, and we are making some great advances in being able to manufacture enhanced healing abilities.” He turned to face Peter, walking closer until he was almost touching Peters feet. Pressing himself further back against the wall, Peters breath caught in his throat. “It could save thousands of lives if we could share your abilities. It’s actually very selfish of you to keep them all to yourself.” Dr Smith shook his head in mock disappointment.

“S-so what do you want with us then?” Peter queried, trying to ignore the tremor in his voice.

“We are going to take some blood samples from yourself and Mr Rogers over there, before we carry out some… _experiments_ in order to test your healing abilities. See how they work. Their effectiveness under stress etc.”

“Why did you take the others if you only wanted me and kid?” Steve piped up from the other wall.

Dr Smith smirked, before turning to face the room at large. “You were all together when we went to strike, and it would be easier to control you both if we have others to threaten to keep you in line. There will be occasions where we require the two of you to _cooperate_. If you don’t then we have 4 disposal bodies in the room.”

While the Doctor had been talking more men had entered the room. One of which was rolling in a trolley with what looked like medical equipment on top of it.

“Now,” the Doctor drawled, “I suggest Mr Parker and Mr Rogers sit still so we can get your blood samples without needing to hurt anyone.”

One of the cronies that entered, grabbed some needles and vials from the trolley before approaching Peter. Pressing himself as far back against the wall as possible, he whimpered when the man grabbed his arm. He tried to yank his arm out the mans grip, but the chains didn’t allow him any leeway.

“Uh-uh-uh” the man tutted. “We told you not to struggle.”

Clints pained grunt caught his attention. Snapping his head round, he saw Clint bending forward with a split lip.

“Clint? You ok?” he whispered.

“Fine kid,” he grunted.

“Stay still boy,” the man hissed as he tapped Peters arm, looking for a vein before inserting the needle.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Peter turned his head away from the needle. He’d always hated needles. They made him queasy. He’s not sure how many vials of blood the man took, but he was dizzy not even halfway through. 

As the man stepped away, after finally deeming to have taken sufficient samples, he slowly opened his eyes and turned to face the centre again. He watched as the men exited the room, taking the trolley out with them. At least it looked like they were leaving.

“We’ll be back shortly, don’t go anywhere,” the Doctor chuckled as he backed out the room, locking the door behind him.

Sighing, Peter closed his eyes breathing deeply as he rests his head against the wall.

“Pete, you ok?” Mr Stark asked, uncharacteristically soft from his side.

Swallowing, he nodded. “Yeah, just dizzy,” he breathed.

“Not surprising, they took more than they should have. Just keep breathing kid,” Sam said.

Opening his eyes, Peter met the worried gaze of the man across the room. He tried to send him a reassuring smile, but it probably came across as a grimace.

Peter could hear his mentor gritting his teeth. He could almost hear the imaginary wheels turning in his head. The waves of anxiety pulsing from the older man was not helping Peter to control his own nerves. The Doctor had mentioned they would be returning later to test their healing abilities. That couldn’t be a good thing and his mind was going wild with all the possible methods. The men didn’t strike him as the type to worry about providing pain killers, so he had to guess it would hurt. But what would they do? He’d never been tortured before. And it wasn’t exactly something he wanted to try.

His rising panic must have been evident on his face because Natasha called out for him.

“Peter,” she waited till he made eye contact with her, “I know this sucks, but you should try and rest for a bit and gather your strength.” The _while you can_ was left unsaid, but Peter heard it anyway.

Giving a jerky nod, he swallowed around the lump in his throat. Leaning back, he closed his eyes. Breathing deeply, he felt the tiredness of blood loss pulling him under.

xXxXxXx

He was woken by his mentors voice calling his name.

“ _Peter,_ ” the man whispered forcefully.

Blinking his eyes open, he felt his heart sink as reality set in. He was still chained to the wall in a room with the other Avengers.

“Pete, you up? They’re coming back.”

Groaning he nodded at his mentor, “Yeah, I’m up Mr Stark. Sorry. How long was I sleeping?”

“I’m not sure, a couple of hours I think.”

Nodding again, his attention was caught by the sound of movement outside the locked door. He could hear heavy objects being dragged back and forth, probably preparing for whatever they had planned.

“What do you think they’re going to do?” he whispered, scared his voice would crack if he tried to speak any louder.

His mentors pained eyes reached his, as the man visibly floundered for what to say. Clint saved his mentor from having to respond.

“We don’t know kid. Sorry, we are still working out what to do. Cap can’t break his chains, and we don’t exactly have anything on us we can use to pick the locks. We’re not giving up though, FRIDAY knows we were off on a mission, so if we don’t return to the compound, she will sound the alert and people will come look for us.”

“Exactly, so we just need to make sure we are ready when they get here,” Steve added.

Peter snorted, “So just don’t die or break down before we escape, right?” he snarked sarcastically.

“Kid,” his mentor breathed, “you’re not going to die.”

He noted that Mr Stark didn’t mention him not breaking. If Peter were being honest, he already felt himself fraying around the edges at the thought of whatever was to come, and it hadn’t even started yet.

Sending his mentor a wobbly smile, he quietly agreed. “Right Mr Stark. Of course not. For what it’s worth Ned knows we’re here, or that we were on a mission. If he doesn’t hear from me by noon the day after the mission, he will be track the suit and contact Happy for assistance. I don’t know how long we’ve been out for, but I’d guess at the least he will be getting in touch shortly.”

“That’s great news. That’s a quicker response time than FRIDAY is programmed to have,” Natasha smiled at him.

“How will he-“ Clint cut off abruptly as the door swung open.

Dr Smith walked in and stood to the side of the door, as some of his men dragged in what appeared to be 2 full size crucifixes. Setting them up in the centre of the room, side on to the team lining the walls. There were chains attached to the crosses, so at least it didn’t look like they planned on nailing them to them.

“What are those for?” Sam questioned.

“They’re for our experiment Mr Wilson,” the Doctor smiled. “We did consider removing Mr Rogers and Mr Parker from the room, but my men thought it would be more fun to do it in here and be able to watch everyone’s reactions.”

“What type of experiments require crucifixes?” Peter whispered. He hadn’t meant to speak out loud, but the doctor turned to face him with that same stupid smile plastered on his face.

“Ah, good question! Well we are going to be testing your healing abilities, comparing them. And I know you’re not an idiot, so I take it you realise that in order to test your healing, well, you need something to _heal._ ”

Swallowing audibly, Peter shifted his gaze from the crosses in the middle of the floor to his bare feet.

“What kind of sicko are you?” Mr Stark spat at the man.

For the first time, Peter saw the doctors carefully fixed mask slip, and he witnessed the raw fury burning behind his eyes. In a flash, the masked smile had returned, but it was enough of a glimpse to have him even further on edge.

“Why, I’m surprised you haven’t done something similar yourself before now Mr Stark. You are supposedly a man of science after all.”

“Torturing people to see how they might heal, is not science. Its psychotic!”

“To-may-to, To-mah-to,” the Doctor shrugged. “Now Mr Parker and Mr Rogers, I am going to get my men to transfer you over one at a time. Don’t struggle unless you want one of the more _disposable_ members of your team to be harmed.”

Peter didn’t miss the movement of the men around the room. There was now an armed man, standing over each of the other 4 members of team. There was a blade held against Sam and Mr Starks neck, whereas a gun had been drawn against the head of Natasha and Clint.

“Am I understood?” The doctor demanded.

Nodding, Peter glanced over at Steve to see him doing the same. Their eyes met, and Steve conveyed as much reassurance as he could with a look.

“Right who wants to go first?”

“I will,” Steve shot out with no hesitation. Instantly, three of the men approached Steve, unchaining him from the wall and dragging him over to the cross furthest from the door, placed halfway between Clint and Sam, with his ankles still tied. He was attached face first to the cross, facing the door. In less than 5 minutes, the men were satisfied that Steve was secure, and they turned their attention to Peter.

Feeling his spider-sense scream at him, Peter tensed, his breath coming in quick pants. He flinched when the mens hand brushed his skin as they undid the restraints attaching him to the wall. He felt his cheeks heating up as he was dragged across the room, bared in front of his teammates. Natasha was in his direct field of vision as he was hauled over to the cross. The sight of the gun against her head was enough to prevent him from fighting back, no matter how much his instincts begged him to.

The men forcibly pressed his front against the cross, so that he was facing Steve, yanking his arms up and out to the sides to attach them to the cross before tying the chains around his ankles to the bottom of the cross as well. One more chain was wrapped around his hips. Meaning the only movement he was capable off was twisting his head from side-to-side.

Blinking back tears, Peter willed himself to calm down. They had just went over this. He couldn’t afford to break before they were rescued.

His spider-sense had continued to scream at him, as the men backed away from his restrained form. Twisting his head, he managed to meet Steve’s eyes from his position a couple feet ahead of him.

The sound of metal objects clanging against a metal tray sounded from behind him. He couldn’t twist round far enough to see what was happening, but he caught Steve tensing in front of him. One of the men wandered to stand behind Steve, while Peter could feel someone standing behind him. The room had fallen into silence as the Doctor wandered to stand in between Peter and Steve.

“To get us started we just want to see how quickly your enhanced healing can deal with different severities of lacerations. We don’t want to risk the results by contaminating your systems with drugs, so unfortunately we can’t provide any pain relief. I’m sure you understand,” the man sent a mock sympathetic frown at them. “Please try not to squirm too much, it will mess with our results.”

With that the Doctor gave a small nod and Peter flinched as his spidey-sense started begging him to move. He could feel the breath of someone behind him on his neck.

He gasped in shock as he felt a blade cutting a slash in a vertical line down his left shoulder. It couldn’t have been more than 2 or 3 inches long, and it was only barely cutting his skin, but he had a feeling they were only getting started.

Without any warning, the blade dug in deeper roughly an inch to the right of the previous cut. Biting his lip to prevent himself from crying out, the man continued to work his way across his back. Digging in further with each new slice. Squeezing his eyes shut, he felt a tear slip down his cheek, as he bit back yet another cry of pain. He could feel blood dripping down his back from the various cuts along his back.

The man paused with the blade resting lightly above his right shoulder, and leant forward to whisper in his ear, “This one might hurt a little.”

A pained grunt escaped his lips, when the man buried a short blade into the hilt before dragging down. He couldn’t help the whimpers that continued to slip from his mouth as the man pulled the blade out and retreated to somewhere further behind him.

Doctor Smith scribbled something down on his notebook, before checking his wristwatch for the time. “Right, well we will leave you to heal, and will be back periodically to check on your progress. See you shortly.”

Closing his eyes, Peter leant forward to rest his forehead against the topside of the right-hand arm of the cross. Breathing heavily he tried to ignore the throbbing in his shoulder. The feeling blood trickling down his back onto the backs of his thighs. The sensation on top of the pain was making him feel queasy.

The click of the lock sliding into place behind him made him jolt.

Squinting an eye open, he caught sight of Steve resting against his own cross in a similar fashion. The man had a thin sheen of sweat on his brow and Peter could hear his harsh breathing. Where Peters eyes were still watery, whether from pain or fear he honestly couldn’t tell, Steve met his gaze with steely determination.

Swallowing audibly in the silent room, Peter twisted his head slightly to catch his mentor staring at him. Or more accurately, staring at his upper back. He recognised the look in the mans eyes. It was guilt.

He didn’t want to think about what it must look like with blood dribbling down the side. He had felt the first couple of cuts beginning to knit themselves back together even before the man had finished cutting him. But once the deeper ones began, his healing had slowed down. Prioritizing the deeper lacerations.

The tension in the room was stifling. He could feel how uncomfortable everyone was. Trying to work out what to say. He knew they were stuck and that all they could provide were empty promises until someone else arrived, but he needed to hear someone’s voice.

“M-Mr Stark?” he croaked, cursing himself for sounding so weak. He’d get through this. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been injured worse than this during his regular patrols. It was just that he usually had more control over what happened. He would know he had an exit plan. Or that Mr Stark would be on his way to help him. Here, he didn’t have any of that. And it terrified him.

“I’m here kid,” his mentor reassured softly. “You’re doing so well Pete. I’m sure Ned is getting in touch with Happy as we speak and will be here before you know it.”

Forcing a smile, he sighed, “Yeah, course he is.”

“You’re strong Pete,” Steve spoke softly, “We’ll get through this. Just hang in there.”

“Not exactly got much choice on that one…” he mumbled under his breath.

Clints chuckle from across the room startled him. Eying him, he raised an eyebrow in question.

“Sorry, it’s just that this whole situation reminds me of Budapest,” he chuckled.

Natasha groaned, “We definitely remember that differently, idiot.”

“W-what happened in Budapest?” Peter questioned. The others in the room all groaned at his question.

“Don’t ask that kid,” Sam mumbled, although he was smiling.

Peter felt his lips twitch into a smile, as Clint and Natasha started to reminisce about their infamous Budapest mission, with the others butting in occasionally or Mr Stark censoring the story when he felt it wasn’t suitable for his ears.

The sound of their voices enough to distract him from the lingering burn of the gashes on his back.

xXxXxXx

By the next morning, Doctor Smith had managed to collect data on how Peter and Steve healed from cuts, from burns and from some broken ribs.

The stench of burnt skin was still lingering in the room, and in Peters weakening state it was making him feel nauseous. His broken ribs were almost fully healed from the beating earlier. He had to admit, after the previous experiment where they had taken a blow torch to his and Steve’s thighs, that the baseball bat to his side had almost been pleasant.

But that had been a couple of hours ago. The Doctor would be back anytime now for his next “experiment”.

Peter genuinely wasn’t sure he could take it. Whatever it was.

He and Steve had been left chained to the crosses overnight, while the Doctor and his men checked in every half an hour to record any observations. And once they were classed as sufficiently healed, he would start the next “experiment”. Peter was exhausted. His eyes kept slipping shut only to startle awake in pain a couple minutes later.

Last time they were in it was discovered that while Peters ribs were left bruised, Steve still had a fracture in one of his ribs. So they were going to give it another half hour before starting the next round. The thought alone was bringing tears to his eyes. He hadn’t had any sleep, and he was in constant pain. Just because his enhanced healing fixed the injuries it didn’t mean the pain also disappeared with them.

After the Budapest story, the others had taken to regaling tales of the past or just talking about anything really to keep their minds off the situation. Peter himself had stopped talking after the blow torch “experiment”. He had screamed so much that his throat felt like it had been ripped to shreds. He was still trying to hold back his whimpers of pain whenever he so much as breathed too deeply.

The door swinging open behind him cut off Sam’s story about his first test flight of the wingsuit. Squeezing his eyes shut, Peter felt yet more tears slipping down his cheek at the thought of what was to come.

Doctor Smith approached Steve and started prodding his ribs, checking to see how they had healed. The soldier hissed as he pressed harder into some of the darker bruises. Stepping back the doctor started writing down some notes into his clipboard.

“Right, I think we can confirm that our young spider heals quicker than the super soldier, which honestly? I didn’t see coming. It’s very interesting. Anyway, I’m satisfied with our results. We are going to use Mr Parkers blood samples to develop a new serum, so I don’t need anything else observation wise. However, my men had been really looking forward to our final experiment. And I’m a nice guy, so I couldn’t say no to them,” he slipped his pen into his pocket before heading to the door, “Anyway I’m not needed any longer, so boys, have fun.”

Shutting the door behind him, Peter shivered as he saw one of the men walking to stand behind Steve. He had what looked like a thick leather whip in his hand. Similar to ones he had seen in his history textbook, when they had been talking about slavery. It had been a sight that haunted him long after they finished that chapter.

Glancing away from it, Peter noticed it was the first time they had come in without extra men to stand guard next to the others. Because of that, the others were more restless than they had been previously. Even going as far as speaking up.

“C’mon man, you don’t have to do this,” Sam piped up from his position.

“You’re right, we don’t _have_ to do anything. We _want_ to do it,” the man behind Peter sneered.

A swishing sound followed by a waft of wind caught his attention. Peter breathed in deep through his nose trying to calm his nerves. It sounded like the man was warming himself up. He could see the other man doing the same behind Steve, he saw the force with which the whip slapped against the ground.

Without any warning, Peter cried out when the whip made contact with his aching back. No longer needing to pace themselves due to the pretext of “experiments” the man wasted no time in flaying Peters back.

His legs could no longer support his weight. If it weren’t for the chains around his waist and his wrists he would have been slumped on the ground. He could feel the whip breaking skin, causing fresh blood trails along the dried mess from the previous cuts.

The others were shouting now.

Threatening the men.

Begging them to stop.

Bargaining with them.

But Peter couldn’t focus on individual words or voices. All he could feel was pain. He thought he might have been screaming. His throat certainly felt raw like he was.

Using his last energy, he twisted his head to see Mr Stark. His mentor was pulling whole heartedly at his chains trying to get to Peter. When he made eye contact, he could see the fear in the elder mans eyes.

His back felt like it was being torn to shreds. It felt hotter than when the blow torch had been against his leg.

His vision was beginning to grow hazy around the edges. If the man kept going, he wasn’t sure how much longer he would stay conscious for.

Watching his mentor, Peter tried to gather strength from him. He could feel himself slipping.

He distantly heard his mentor yelling his name. Twitching his lips into what he hoped was a reassuring smile, he saw the terrified expression that enveloped the mans features.

That’s not right. Peter didn’t want Mr Stark to be scared. His mentor was supposed to be the strong one. But then that’s not fair. His mentor had been strong the entire time, maybe it was Peters turn now?

Gathering his strength he prepared to offer reassurance to the man.

“M’ser S’ar’…” he managed to mumble before slipping into a painless darkness.

xXxXxXx

Pain.

A blinding pain throughout his entire body was the only thing that Peter was aware off.

He whimpered, trying to get back to the soothing nothingness he had been floating in only moments before.

The pain slowly receded as he felt himself starting to drift again. But a voice pulled him back. Back to the all-encompassing pain.

“Peter? Peter, can you hear me?”

He knew that voice.

That voice was safe.

It reminded him of metal and coffee.

The smell of oil.

Late nights messing around in a lab.

Ferries.

Peter could feel himself moving. He was rocking gently. Was he on a ferry now? Is that why the voice is here?

“C’mon kiddo, let me know you’re ok.”

Whoever it was sounded worried.

Peter thought he should probably try to respond, but that seemed like so much effort.

Instead he let the quiet darkness take over again.

xXxXxXx

The next time Peter was awake, he was much more aware of himself. He was still in a lot of pain, but he could think through it this time.

He could hear the hushed voices of his team somewhere close by. The sound of an engine.

He was lying on his front, a blanket draped over his lower half. Nothing on his back, although it felt hot enough without any covering.

Someone was holding his hand. Squinting his eyes open, Peter saw he was in the quinjet. He was on a gurney with Mr Stark sitting by his side, in a SHIELD issue tracksuit. Not the mans usual wardrobe.

His eyes widened as the memories of what had happened flashed through his mind. Jerking himself up, he cried out in pain, falling back heavily onto the bed.

“Peter, hey you’re going to be ok,” Mr Stark soothed, stroking a hand through his hair. “Cho is ready and waiting for us when we arrive.”

“It hurts,” he whimpered. Long past being embarrassed about acting like a child in front of the man.

“I know, I know it does. We’ll get you on the good meds as soon as we have them, shouldn’t be too much longer now.”

Closing his eyes as his mentor continued to run his hands through his hair, he tried to relax. “What happened? Like how’d we get out?”

“Well, after you passed out, Rhodey showed up with half of SHIELD and ransacked the place to get us out. You don’t need to worry about them anymore, and we got all of your and Cap’s DNA so no need to worry about any psychos trying to recreate your enhancements.”

Peters eyes flew open at the reminder of Steve, “Where’s Steve? Is he ok?”

His mentor shifted to the side, to reveal the supersoldier laying face down on a gurney on the other side of the jet. Sam was sitting by his side keeping watch over him. Hearing his question, Sam turned to smile at Peter.

“He’ll be ok Pete. He’s just resting, he went down not long after you.”

“Okay,” he breathed. “So how did Rhodey find us?”

Natasha appeared by his side smiling, “Rhodey came for us, but it was Ned who found us. He’s a genius managed to track your suit, by tracing where it wasn’t, working around the jamming signal those idiots were using.”

His mouth twitched into a smile as he sighed, “Of course he’s a genius. He’s my guy in the chair.”

“Yeah he is,” his mentor agreed.

Peter could feel his eyes growing heavier. His healing factor always made him extra tired and given the amount of healing he had done recently without any sleep he was honestly surprised he had managed to stay awake for this long.

Noticing his drooping eyes, Mr Stark started to rub soothing circles into Peters temple since he couldn’t rub his back.

“Why don’t you get some sleep kid? Once we arrive Cho will want you treated and then I don’t think your aunt or Ned plan on letting you out of their sight for a while. You should probably take the opportunity while you can,” his mentor smiled at him.

Huffing a quiet laugh, Peter was inclined to agree.

Yawning, he closed his eyes, keeping a grip of Mr Starks other hand.

It might be childish, but it made him feel safe.

Knowing that he was safe with Mr Stark by his side, he slipped into a dreamless sleep. Letting his body catch up with some much-needed rest.


End file.
